


Lure

by suecsit



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:30:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suecsit/pseuds/suecsit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will fails to tie a lure. Hannibal takes advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lure

“I can’t even make the tie work, my hand’s shaking too much,” Will muttered, dropping the hook on the floor.

“Try again.”  
He picked it up and placed it on the desk.

“Now show me how you would teach Abigail how to do this. You said it made you angry to imagine it.”

“Dr. Lecter, I’m not her father. It was stupid.”

“You should use your hands to relieve stress in times like these. I want to see you do this, Will. As part of your therapy. Imagine you are teaching a student, or a surrogate daughter, or maybe just a dear friend how to hook the lure. Show me.”

Will bristled at the reference to a "surrogate daughter," but he capitulated finally and picked up the hook. When he reached for the magnifying glass, he accidentally pierced the skin of the thumb. He cursed under his breath.

“Let me see.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just get a band-aid from the kitchen.”

Hannibal reached out for his hand. He took the thumb carefully and examined the drops of red. With no warning, he slipped the thumb into his mouth and began to gently massage the skin between his teeth.

“Stop!” 

The doctor obeyed, the thumb emerging from his lips with a small pop. Will snatched his hand out of the doctor’s grip. He sat there, stupefied.

“What were you doing?”

Instead of replying in words, Hannibal stared Will down, holding his gaze until it became too uncomfortable for the profiler, who bowed his head and stuffed his wounded thumb inside his crossed arms. 

“Seeing how you taste.” 

Will laughed. “You aren’t serious. Is this like your ‘smell people thing’?”

“No. Give me your hand, please, Will.”

Will suddenly felt warm. And completely lost. He kept his hand tucked inside his crossed arms. “No,” he said.

Hannibal slowly reached into the self-defensive bubble Will had tried to maintain with his clenched arms and slowly, gently unfolded them. He took the thumb back and rolled up Will’s plaid shirt sleeve just enough to bear the wrist. As the doctor’s hands caressed the bare skin, Will began to tremble.

“Please,” Will whispered.

“Whatever you need,” the doctor soothed. And placed the thumb back in his mouth.

Will gasped and bent his head, refusing to look up. It was like his hand and his body were two different organisms, and yet his hand had become the whole world, too. The thumb inside Hannibal’s mouth was being sucked, no, worshipped was more the right term. 

Hannibal’s hands wrapped themselves around Will’s wrist, holding him steady. He could feel Will’s pulse point under his fingertips. It beat rapidly, like the wings of a hummingbird. And his bent head, it almost looked as if Will were worshipping him, offering his thumb as sacrament.

Hannibal released his thumb from his mouth for just a moment and simply held it in front of him. The drops of blood were all gone. “You know, Will, I, too, go fishing every day.” 

Will looked up, confused, his arm still shaking, his eyes wide. He pulled slightly against the grip, a parody of real effort to reclaim his lost limb.

Hannibal smiled. “Often I catch nothing. But today—I’ve hooked you, haven’t I?” He chuckled to see the profiler’s eyes finally meet his in complete shock. 

“I’m not your catch,” Will protested weakly. 

“Ah, but you are.” Hannibal chuckled and put the thumb back inside his mouth. A moan escaped Will’s lips before he could stop it, the tongue wrapping itself gently again around the entire digit.


End file.
